The Apple Blossom Bower (Historical Romance Novella) by Margaret Evans Porter Read Free Book Online Page A

gentle and well-mannered creature, and very reliable—much like Annis herself,” he acknowledged. “Shall I send the horse over to Orchard Place?”
    Shaking his head, Squire Dundridge replied, “Not for a few days yet. To surprise her, I must be discreet in making the arrangements. I’ll inform you as soon as I decide how to proceed.”
    When the squire extended his hand, Edwin stepped forward to grip it with his own. “Thank you, sir.”
    “For buying your mare?” the older man asked roguishly.
    “For bestowing your stepdaughter’s hand. But my happiness won’t be complete till I’ve claimed it.”
    In Edwin’s imagination, asking a young lady’s guardian for permission to offer for her had loomed as a terrifying ordeal. To his surprise and relief, it was a simple matter. His future was settled—or would be after he dispelled Mrs. Dandridge’s doubts of his worthiness, and assured Annis of his love for her.
     
     
    Instead of listening to her stepfather’s sonorous voice as he read from a book, Annis directed recriminations at Sir Edwin Page for making her love him. She was trying very hard to hate him but in fairness had to acknowledge that he’d never once hinted that his feelings for her were deep or lasting. Therefore he had not really deceived her.
    Mrs. Dundridge gathered up her needlework and blew out the candle on her work table. “Time for bed,” she announced to her daughter and husband.
    Making no move to go yet, the squire said, “Annis, remain here.”
    Annis gazed at him in trepidation, having never before heard that portentous tone. Had he heard of her unladylike behavior at the Castle Inn?
    After her other left them alone together, he said solemnly, “I visited Sir Edwin Page today.”
    “Oh?” She braced herself for the recriminations she knew she deserved.
    “I’ve long prided myself on never questioning your behavior, Annis, or meddling in your affairs. But I seek an explanation of why the baronet assumes you don’t much care for him.”
    “He said that?” A flush heated her cheeks.
    Ignoring her discomfiture, the squire went on, “In my experience he’s the most agreeable and considerate of gentlemen. And charming, as you’ve surely noticed.”
    Annis realized that he’d divined her deepest secret. What was the point in pretending indifference, she asked herself wearily, when her pride was already so damaged?
    “I care for him,” she confessed. “That’s what makes me fear him.” Realizing that she’d said too much, she fell silent.
     “You do more harm than good by keeping your troubles to yourself, Annis.” With an encouraging smile, he said, “I could help, if only you’d left me.”
    Though doubtful that it was possible, nonetheless she opened her heart to her stepfather for the first time in the eight years she’d passed in his household. As she recited the brief history of her unhappy love affair, the squire listened to her intently, his brow slightly creased. He smiled, though not unkindly, when she frankly admitted to having been kissed beneath the old apple tree last autumn. And then she described all that had occurred in Dartmouth one month ago, including her abbreviated stint as a serving maid.
    “I was well-served for my foolishness,” she said miserably. “Sir Edwin was a perfect gentleman about it, the complete opposite of Mr. Corston, but I could tell he disapproved. And yet I sensed he was beginning to regard me with affection. Or so I hoped until today,” she concluded. “I found out that he is trifling with me, just as Mother suspected.”
    Unburdening herself further, she related all that that Garth Corston had said to her. “I’ve never been so hurt—and angry—in my life,” she declared, her eyes filling. “That Sir Edwin could believe the gossip about my father and his fabled cache of gold is bad enough. To spread the take is worse. But neither is as dreadful as hearing about his other lady. That was more than I could